On a Snowy Christmas Night by Debbi Rawlins Page B

the ground, buried in nearly a foot of snow. She knew he expected her to dismount but she was so numb from the cold that she feared she’d need his help in order to land on her feet. Which wasn’t the least bit fair—he had to be exhausted.
    Apparently he hadn’t expected her to do anything because he reached up and caught her at the waist. “Ready?”
    She nodded, unable to utter a word. Her teeth were still chattering too hard, and the uncontrollable shivering hadn’t eased up. She felt like such a baby.
    He lifted her off the saddle and set her on the ground. Her legs were unbearably weak, hardly more stable than overcooked spaghetti, and if she went down she’d just die.
    Without a word, Jesse slid an arm around her. “No point in me going inside first. We have no other choice.”
    Grateful for his support, she leaned against him. “I’m just glad it’s blocking the wind.”
    He pushed open the unlatched door, and Shea could’ve sworn she saw a critter run across the wood floor. Or it might have been a trick of the waning light. Either way, she didn’t care. As long as there was no biting involved, she was willing to share.
    A dank, musty smell permeated the air, and she didn’t care about that, either. As they stumbled across the threshold, she saw the place consisted of a single room with no windows. A cot had been shoved into the corner and beside it sat two small benches that looked like the results of a high school woodshop project.
    Other objects were scattered about but it was too dim to make them out. Something big and gray sat in the middle of the room and she got excited when she realized it was a potbellied stove.
    “Does this thing work?” she asked, optimism warming her insides.
    “I hope so.” Jesse removed his arm from around her waist and was slowly inching away. “You okay to stand?”
    She had been leaning on him quite heavily. The realization surprised her, but more shocking was the sudden need to keep him glued to her side. “Of course, sorry.”
    “For what?” He rubbed her arm with reassurance and then dug in the large bag he’d taken from the plane.
    She heard a soft click before the round glow from a flashlight swept the small room. The light stopped on a lantern hanging on a rough, unfinished wall. She saw the floor was made up of warped wooden planks and made a mental note to be careful how she stepped.
    “I was hoping the lantern was still here.” He took her hand and pressed the flashlight against her palm. “Hold this, would you?”
    “How did you know— Have you been here before?”
    “Many times.” He pulled off one of his gloves, and just watching him expose his hand made her shudder deep inside her jacket. “In fact, my brother Cole and I helped Cy Heber put up this shack twelve years ago.”
    She tried to keep the beam of light ahead of him while he retrieved the lantern. “It seems older.”
    “May not be the Ritz, but it’s served its purpose more than once.”
    “I’m not complaining,” she said, unable to stop shivering. Nice to be out of the snow but it seemed just as cold inside as outside. “Should I close the door?”
    “Let’s see if we can air the place out a little.” He stopped fidgeting with the lantern, looked over at her and then went back to rooting inside the bag.
    He pulled out something big and silvery and draped it around her shoulders, gathering the ends together under her chin. She’d lowered her arms to her side, making the flashlight useless.
    “What is this?”
    “A blizzard blanket. It helps conserve your body heat.”
    She couldn’t see his face in the murky light but she could feel his breath, warm and moist, dancing across her cheekbones. “What about you?”
    “I want to get this lantern lit and a fire started.” He brushed his bare thumb along her jaw.
    Even though she couldn’t see, she was pretty sure his touch to her face was deliberate. Was he thinking about the kiss? Would he say something about it? She